How dare he do this to me?
by carlasbarlow
Summary: First person account of Carla's rape at the hands of Frank Foster. Trigger warning: contains sexual abuse.


"Now please will you just go 'cause you asked me to tell you the truth and I have done." I look down at his feet, waiting for them to turn around and make their way to the door. My head is heavy, heart pounding. I can feel him watching me. I just want to be alone, I need to deal with my thoughts in peace. "Just go."

"I trusted you. I'd opened up to you like I never had with any other woman and you were... you were using me."

"No, I wasn't." I try to plead with him although I know in my heart he doesn't believe me. I loved him, or at least I thought I did. I just couldn't get Peter out of my head but I would never cheat on him, not ever. I thought it was the right thing to do, to tell the truth. At least we could get married tomorrow without any secrets threatening to expose themselves at a later date.

"Using me to make your boyfriend jealous... a smokescreen for your sordid little affair."

"It's not true." I knew he wouldn't believe me, nobody ever does. I can feel my tears burning the skin of my cheeks. I can't even look at him. Not from guilt, but shame. I'm supposed to be marrying this man tomorrow and here I am destroying him. I can hear the tone in his voice changing, the volume intensifying. He hates me, I know he does. Who wouldn't? I'm so tired, I just want to sleep and worry about this in the morning. I want to be alone.

"And now you think you can just chuck me away? Job done?"

"Okay, I want you to go, now." I've had enough, I need to sleep, I want him to leave. I walk towards the door, reaching up to unlock it but I can hear him before he's even there. He grabs my arm and spins me around, taking my other arm and squeezing tightly before he slams me into the door. I look up and see the hatred in his eyes. I can't think. I can't breathe. What is he doing? I didn't do anything wrong, did I? I try to keep calm, hoping he just wants to scare me and he'll leave any minute now. He's proved his point, I'm scared. I can hear the anger in his breathing. I look into his eyes and silently beg him to let go of me. My arms are throbbing from the pain of his grip. I want to shout at him but my mouth won't open and the words won't form on my tongue.

He holds me there for what feels like hours, staring at me, as if he's trying to assert his authority over me. He has already overpowered me physically with little effort, what chance is there for the rest of me? I can feel the tips of his fingers threatening to burst through my skin. My muscles are aching. My head is pounding. I can feel my blood coursing it's way through my veins. My legs are shaking but I am still standing only because of the force of his grip on me. I close my eyes and hope that this is a nightmare, that I might wake up at any moment. But this is my reality.

He pulls me away from the door, throwing me aside and I grab on to the counter top, desperate not to land on the floor. As long as I can stand there's still a chance I can fight. Before I can straighten myself up he pushes my head into the marble slab. It's so cold, I can feel it biting my cheek. What is he doing to me? I can feel his body pressed against my back. I don't want him near me, I want him to leave. I put my hands on the counter top, using every ounce of strength I can muster to attempt to lift myself up but my arms are still weak. I can't move. I can't win this fight.

I can hear the sound of his breathing; heavy and fast. He has a hold on my arm again as if he didn't do enough damage before. Another sound catches my attention, making me feel ill to the very pit of my stomach. It's the sound of the metal latch coming loose as he unbuckles his belt. I don't want him to do this, I didn't ask for this. This is not okay. I want to scream. I want to cry but even my own tears have failed me. Everything I thought I once had control over has failed me. I just want to be alone.

Why did I wear this top today? It's one of my favourites but it's too transparent. Have I given him the wrong idea? Maybe I could have done up another button instead of letting it hang so low on my chest. Or could it have been the short skirt? The short skirt I could now feel being hitched up over my hips. I tried to move my head but his hand was still in control, pushing me harder into the cold stone. I can't stop shaking. I can feel his other hand touching my leg. I don't want him to touch me there. I want to push him away but I am too weak. I feel useless.

My heart is racing so fast that I can feel it bouncing off my ribs. My head is light and my vision is blurred. I think I can hear him talking but everything sounds like white noise. There's a high pitched ringing that won't go away. I try to swallow but my mouth is so dry I can barely get my lips to meet and there's a taste in my mouth akin to something metal. I can feel the warmth of his body as he leans over the top of me, suffocating me. I want him to get off. I know what he's about to do and there is nothing I can do to stop him.

I want to tell him no, I don't give him permission to do this, but the words have long since fled from my tongue. He moves closer to me, his hands are fumbling around with my clothing before I can feel the last piece of dignity being removed from my body. There's still time to tell him I don't want to do this. I have never been short for words in the past, why should now be any different? He lifts his hand from my head and forces it and the other into my sides and pushes me further up onto the counter so that my feet are no longer touching the floor. He has complete control over me. It's too late.

I'm shocked as I can hear the gasp that escapes my throat but when I try to make another noise it doesn't work. I can feel the burning of my tears as they roll from my eyes and on to the

counter top, creating a puddle beneath my head. I want him to stop. It hurts. Everything hurts. I need to get out from under him but he is too strong. He forces his way into my body, my mind and my soul; destroying them all piece by piece. The weight of his body on top of mine is becoming too much to bear. I feel like I'm being suffocated, I just want this to be over.

He continues to overpower me, control me, have his wicked way with me. I have completely given up now. The damage has already been done, what's the point in trying to fight now? What difference will it make? This is the man I thought I wanted to marry and here he is stripping me of what little pride and dignity I have left. Is he finished yet? I can't lie here like this anymore. I don't want to take this anymore. I need him to be done now.

He suddenly stops. Can he read my mind? Did he hear me wishing for it to stop? I take a breath and hold it, hoping that it's over. I can feel him backing away from me, the sound of the metal belt buckle jingling again. He's finished. It's over. I can finally breathe again. My heart is still pounding against my chest, I had just been too distracted to realise how hard it had been beating. I want to move, to get up from the counter I've become intimately acquainted with but I can't feel my body. All I can feel is _him_.

A lump forms in my throat as I feel his hand run up my back and I'm terrified all over again. What more could he possibly want to do to me? I have nothing left to give to him. He has taken everything from me. I can feel his fist closing around my blouse, taking hold of me. I try once more to lift my head up, hoping that somehow I can find the strength but before I have a chance to try he pulls as hard as he can and I slide off the counter and fall to the floor.

The fall hurt more than I expected, but it was nothing compared to what he had done to me. It's not as cold down here and at least there's nobody pushing my head down. I can still breathe. I close my eyes as tightly as possible, hoping that he'll be gone when I open then. I can hear his shoes colliding with the wooden floor, the click of his heels echoing through my head. I open my eyes and I can see he's still here. I want him to go. I want to be alone.

"It's your fault, you made me do it."

Was it my fault? Everything else seems to be, why not this too? I try to free my hand from under me. It's pressed against my chest so hard I can feel my heart, almost as if I'm holding it. My legs are still pulsing and my arms are numb; everything feels weak.

"Carla..."

The sound of his voice calling my name makes me feel sick. I want to get up and scream at him, hit him, throw something at him. I can't move. I just lie there and watch as he opens the door and leaves. Finally. I'm alone. I just wanted to be left alone and now I am. What do I do now? What if he comes back for more? Should I tell somebody? What if they don't believe me? My head is spinning, I can't focus. How dare he do this to me? I used to be so strong, so independent. Now look at me. I can't even pick myself up off the floor. I hate him. I despise him. I despise myself.


End file.
